Randall had gotten separated from his group at the Museum of Natural History. He had originally been a little relieved, as it was nice to be away from everyone and have a few moments of relative peace, but as the minutes ticked by and turned into hours, his relief began to turn into anxiety. Once, in junior high, on a band trip to Disneyland, a kid named Jimmy that Randall knew left their group to go to the first aid station because he wasn’t feeling well, but he hadn’t told anyone where he was going. It wasn’t until later, at their hotel, that a few kids realized Jimmy’s presence was conspicuously lacking. Dear God, they had left Jimmy at Disneyland! Randall sincerely hoped that this would not be a repeat of that notorious incident. If only he could remember where they were supposed to meet at the end of the day. Hopefully at least one of his friends would notice his absense and have the decency to come look for him.
I Hope Somebody Remembers They Forgot Me20 05 2010